Choice of Foes
by Nilathiel
Summary: Time has come for the first of the bloodiest battles to pass our ranks. And it is at this time, we are not given the choice of foes.
1. Awakening

Choice of foes  
Chapter 1  
  
Time has come for the first of the bloodiest battles to pass our ranks. And it is at this time, we are not given the choice of foes.  
  
Elianora watched the young hunter idly feel the feathered ends of her arrows.   
  
"Aelle, are you ready to face them?" the blacksmith spoke and sat beside the huntress.  
  
Aelle shook her head. Tears were evident in her eyes.  
  
"I didn't want this to happen... Why must we fight with them?" the hunter sighed, hugging her knees close to her chest.  
  
They were stationed in one of the halls in their guild castle. They were tasked to defend it. From who? Their friends.  
  
"None of us did. Apparently some of us don't understand what this war is for." Elianor spoke, tightening her grasp on her hammer.  
  
"What IS it for?" she looked up to the older blacksmith.  
  
A grim expression was pasted on the smith's face. Apparently, something was brewing in her head. She rose and listened to the sound thudding of boots on wooden floor.  
  
"Elianor...?" the young hunter spoke, standing and gazing across the hall where they were stationed.  
  
The smith's lips were pressed into a thin narrow line.  
  
"They're coming."  
  
"EVERYONE TO YOUR STATIONS!!!"  
  
Hunters, wizards, knights, assassins and priestesses were in a bustle. Swords were drawn, bows were drawn and qatars were well-brandished. None spoke. Tension sailed through the air as the sound of footsteps grew heavier by the second.  
  
A loud cry emanated through the hall, the sound bringing more pressure to Elianor's pounding heart. Here they come.  
  
A female knight rushed forward on her pecopeco, sword drawn and mouth screaming a battlecry. The knight met the smith head on, blade crossing hammer. Smiles crossed between the two as other troops came to attack the others in defense.  
  
"I accept your challenge, Lady Cynwise." Elianor smirked, putting more force onto their weapons locked.  
  
"Oh so you noticed?" smirk returned beneath the iron cain, Cynwise parried and pulled their weapons apart.  
  
Aelle watched the others locked in serious battle against their former allies. She couldn't get herself to fight her friends. People whom she stood alongside before. People whom she had been with. She could not bring herself to draw an arrow and aim at their hearts. Shifting her visage onto the heated battle between Elianor and Cynwise, she looked on worriedly.  
  
The smith was throwing a heavy cart at the pecopeco, driving it wild in pain. But immensely the pecopeco rode on to its master's desires.   
  
"Elianor! Look out!"  
  
The knight pulled at the the reins of her pecopeco, making the creature rear upwards with a loud screech.  
  
Aelle drew two arrows from her quiver and strung her bow swiftly. Aiming at the knight, she hesitated. I'm not going to hit anyone!  
  
Arrows sailed and caught the pecopeco behind the wing. The creature reared backwards, throwing Cynwise off its back and writhing in pain. As the rider fell on the ground, winded, the pecopeco followed suit over her.  
  
The knight howled in pain as the bird landed on her heavily armored body. She watched the smith loom over her.  
  
Elianor bent over and placed a hand to scoop her opponent's head gently. She opened a white potion with  
another hand and poured its contents in the knight's mouth.  
  
Confused, Cynwise opened her mouth to speak but couldn't.  
  
"I'll let you go for the moment. Let us do this again." Elianor smiled and pushed the bird off Cynwise's prone body.  
  
"Till then..." the knight cringed as she gasped for air.  
  
Smiles crossed their lips as both rose again to face each other. With a curt nod, they turned to other opponents.  
  
"Elianor, why did you help her?" Aelle asked as she handed a white potion to the bruised blacksmith.  
  
A small smile crossed the smith's face.  
  
"Aelle, we fight this war for honor. Not to destroy. By defeating them, we give them honor as well."  
  
The hunter's face was twisted in confusion.  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"Me neither."  
  
R&R please!  
  
XD


	2. Confrontation

Choice of foes

Chapter 2

Scorne opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow at his opponent. The hammer his enemy wielded had slammed itself right across his face. He could feel the coppery taste emanating through his mouth. The taste brought excitement throughout his system. Tightening his grip on his bloodied qatar, he grinned menacingly.

His opponent shook in her footing but glared at him heatedly.

"Dear dear Lisolette..." he spat a bit of blood aside and laid his emerald gaze on the female smith.

The smith shuddered at the assassin's mere mention of her name.

"Don't you dare call me by name. I will kill you and take over this rundown castle!" she cursed him angrily, dangerously waving the hammer towards him.

With rogue-like speed, Scorne evaded the blow, moved forward to grab her by the face and push her against the wall. The hammer fell on the floor with a sound clang. Grinning once again, he crushed the smith's reddening face in his palm. Lisolette, fighting the weakness that made her let go of her only weapon, grabbed a hold of the assassin's wrist and squeezed tightly.

"If this is such a rundown castle, why even waste your own life trying to take it?"

Lisolette cringed and tried pushing the assassin away. The grip was grinding her teeth together and the wall was hard behind her.

"Well dear Lisolette? Why do you let yourself suffer?" Scorne smiled in delight as he could feel the girl's temple pulsing beneath his grasp.

The smith cringed again and forcefully kicked her captor in the abdomen. The grip on her face did not budge. She kicked again and again but her enemy only smiled at her.

"Must you be so fierce, dearest?"

In an instant, a qatar was driven deep into the smith's torso. Blood spurted from where the blade had penetrated her. The assassin smiled and licked his lips.

"You know I love the taste of blood..." Scorne let go of the girl and gently pushed her against the wall.

Lisolette coughed hoarsely, blood flooding over her taste buds. She felt no pain in her stomach. She was strangely numb.

The assassin neared his face to the smith's and sneered playfully. But the girl was not ready to surrender. Upon gathering her remaining strength, Lisolette swung her fist towards her opponent.

Emerald eyes were glazed with bloodlust. Scorne caught the smith by the wrist and pinned her against the wall.

"Feisty aren't you?"

Scorne locked his lips against Lisolette's, tasting the distinct sting of dying blood in the girl's mouth. His being became excited as he felt the body against him try to squirm away.

As he broke the kiss, he kept the girl in his grasp.

Lisolette was fuming red though weak. As she heatedly returned the emerald stare, she felt herself growing heavy.

"Scorne, you bastard..."

In an instant, Scorne the bastard turned away from her and brought his qatar heavily through the air and slashing at the smith's neck. Head, severed from the body, rolled on the floor and blood spurted from the wound. Splattered by the crimson liquid, the assassin licked at his lips and hands hungrily.

At that moment, the whole castle rang with bloodthirsty laughter.

Aelle watched the assassin sleep soundly as he was tied against the post.

"Will he be alright?" she asked her loved priest.

"I believe he will. His bloodied qatar has been separated from him."

Sarabande wrapped an arm around the huntress. She had been quite uncomfortable with this whole battle. She was forced to fight against her former comrades. With a quick brush at her hair, she sighed.

"We have a final hour. Do you think we'll hold strong?"

"We will."

Sarabande, in comfort, planted a gentle kiss on the girl's forehead and smiled.


	3. Recollection

Choice of foes

Chapter 3

Aelle sighed softly as she laid herself in bed. Her body felt tense the whole morning as she was told of bitter news. The Alliance was to attack their guild castle.

Another sigh escaped her lips. She had been warned the other day by a friend. Someone will attack. But she didn't expect her friends to go to such extent.

"Aelle, you have a visitor!" a gentle baritone called for her.

Again, she sighed and got up.

"Who is it?" she called back, smoothing her clotes as she walked out her room and down the stairs.

"It's me, Eadric."

A green-haired man smiled at her from the doorway. With smile returned, she ran to him in a hug.

"Eadric! How good to see you!" Aelle cried as she pulled the man into the living room.

"It's good to see you too." the hunter smiled grimly, allowing the girl to pull him indefinitely.

The smell of tea rose through the air as Eadric seated himself on the couch.

The scent brought relaxation to his tensed muscles. It was the best feeling he had encountered since morning.

"Care for some tea, Eadric?" the gentle baritone called again.

"Yes, please, Sarabande. Thank you. Your tea has always been something to look forward to." he smiled wholeheartedly, straightening his training-ailed posture.

A man came into the living room carrying a tray. On it were three china cups and a kettle with steam coming from its spout. The man placed the tray on the table and took a seat across them.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, fool." the priest chuckled and poured some tea in the china.

The hunter chuckled along with him, taking the cup to his lips with an inaudible sip.

"So what brings you here, Eadric? This is the second time you've come to our house and the first time was bringing tidings of Sarabande's disappearance. What ails you, friend?" Aelle smiled expectantly as she watched the fellow hunter put down the cup gently.

Eadric took a deep breath and exhaled as if taking the plunge.

"You know we will attack your castle this afternoon, right?"

The couple nodded grimly.

"Aelle, stay here. Go to the dungeons or whatever. Just don't go to defend your castle." his voice as if begging.

The request stilled the two. It was not expected of the other to put another aside.

"E... Eadric... I am a Maiden. You know I have a duty to fulfill," she spoke, her heart troubled by the selfless gesture.

The hunter sighed in exasperation. He knew the girl was hardheaded and it would take more than a request to stop her from going.

"Elf child..." he sighed again as he called her with his pet name for the endeared girl.

"I don't want to see you in a battle of this sort. I don't want to see you fight against your friends."

"I have no choice. They chose to raise in arms. Much more, against my only family," the reply came coldly.

"I can't hurt you. I can't stomach confronting you in the battlefield."

Aelle winced as she saw the hunter exasperatedly. She couldn't give up the principles she had been standing up for quite some time now. She strived to fight for her beliefs. She was not going to stand down now. As she opened her mouth to speak, a sharp stabbing pain coursed across her chest.

"Elf child?" Eadric spoke, rising from his seat.

The girl closed her eyes, a gasp escaping her lips. Sarabande pushed her back gently with a hand on her chest, silently muttering an incantation.

"Sarabande, what is wrong?" he spoke again, taking a step forward towards the couple but is pushed back by the priest's restraining hand.

She winced again and grit her teeth in pain. Her complexion has turned pale, cold sweat beaded across her forehead.

"Aelle..."

"Her heart is weak. These days, the company at the Tavern has troubled her more and more. They have become so full of themselves they refuse to see reason."

Eadric took another step but was taken aback when the girl choked on a sob.

"I will fight, Eadric. Even if it means killing you in the process." She half-spat her words as she gasped for more air.

"Elf Child, you think this is the main issue? I don't want you to suffer the anguish."

"Go away!"

"Eadric, please leave us." Sarabande spoke calmly amidst the rising voices.

"I will not leave until she decides not to join today's siege!" the hunter, enraged, grabbed the girl by the arm and pulled violently.

She grunted and glared at the hunter but had no strength to fight back. An angry flame burned in her eyes as she looked him straight.

"Sarabande, she must stay."

With a grim expression, the priest brought out a blue gem from his pocket.

"She has already made a decision. And this gem will decide for you."

The precious stone glowed in his grasp, a white circle glowing around the hunter's feet. Before Eadric could react, tendrils of the white spell crept up his knees and engulfed his whole body. In a flash of white light, the hunter was gone.


	4. Resolution

Choice of Foes  
Chapter 4  
  
Aelle winced and clutched her hands over her chest. All was blocked out bys omething unknown to her. The only things she could hear was Sarabande calling her name and her hoarse breathing. She closed her eyes, trying to fight the pain.  
  
"Aelle!"  
  
A strong warm hand foudn its way to her chest, right over the heart. From the hand emanated a soothing warmth, calming the panic that coursed through her body. Upon opening her eyes, she foudn herself in Sarabande's arms, surrounded by a green aura.  
  
"Pneuma. You need to get back to the chokepoint." Sarabande spkoe, casting another green aura a few steps away.  
  
Aelle resisted his grip and pulled an arrow from ehr quiver. In a swift movement, she aimed at one of the charging enemies in the courtyard and with a sound twang, let go of the arrow. An incoming knight on his pecopeco fell, struck down by an arrow lodged into the holes of his visor.  
  
"Aelle, listen to me. We must go."  
  
But the young huntress' attention was focused on one of the charging invaders. Emerald hair, adorned by white angel wings. Mini-glasses perched on his nose.  
  
"Eadric."  
  
In an instant, an arrow was locked in her bow, aimed at the familiar face in the crowd. As she pulled at her bowstring in an effort to send the arrow straight at her enemy, a hand restrained her bowhand gently. It was Sarabande.  
  
"It is best that you strike him last. Let this war be beyond the two of you." the priest advised.  
  
With a curt nod, Aelle silently agreed and lowered her bow. As she was about to turn around to head back to the chokepoint, the sharp whistling of an arrow caught her ear. It was soon followed by the sound of the sickening piercing of flesh and a grunt. She turned to look at Sarabande and found him cringing in pain.  
  
An arrow was embedded in his chest, narrowly missing his heart.  
  
"Pull it out." he spat, blood beginning to taste in his mouth.  
  
Aelle gripped the arrow's shaft tightly and with a swift, strong force, pulled it out. The priest held back a scream but clutched at his chest and in turn, chanted a heal spell softly.  
  
The wound at his chest closed, the blood clearing from his priest garments. The pained expression left his face but was replaced by that of confusion. The huntress knew who to shoot next.  
  
Arm swinging swiftly to grab an arrow from the quiver, Aelle aimed once again at Eadric. But this time, she did not hesitate in letting go of the arrow. Upon release, the arrow soared in the air, whistling a song of war. She half-expected her arrow to reach it's target but also half-expected to be shot back in return.  
  
To much of her surprise, a white-chested falcon flew into the arrow's path and destroyed the arrow in one fell swoop.  
  
"Aelle! Look out!" Sarabande shouted then began chanting softly.  
  
Eadric, from afar, aimed at the huntress. With blessed precision, he released his arrow and watched his target look at him in disbelief.  
  
Aelle watched the arrow approach her. She then closed her eyes in anticipation, waiting for the arrow to strike her down. But as she waited, her patience wore thin. An arrow usually took only less than a moment to get to its destination. This one took more than five. As she opened her eyes, she found herself surrounded once again by the green aura that saved her life more than once.  
  
The priest raised his hand and chanted softly another of his incantations. Aelle immediately felt her movements quicken and her hand steadier in carrying her bow. Upon instinct and a smug smile, she drew another arrow and aimed again at Eadric.  
  
She found the hunter rushing towards them, short sword drawn. They both knew that arrows and falcons are of no use against a Pneuma spell. But what is a hunter if he cannot skin his prize?  
  
Aelle released the arrow and ash she expected, the falcon swooped down again and caught it in midflight. With the slight sound of her whistle, a silver-winged falcon flew towards the white-chested bird and the two engaged in an air battle. Screeches filled the air as the two creatures locked in serious battle. But down below, their masters were to follow suit.  
  
Sarabande tossed Aelle a short sword and smirked.  
  
"Use the Fortune sword well. make me proud."  
  
With a curt nod, she ran to meeet teh charging hunter. Blades crossed with a sound clang, heated glares exhanged between the two hunters. This was a battle between two friends. And neither will surrender to each other.  
  
"I thought I told you not to come here?" Eadric spoke as he pushed against their locked weapons.  
  
"Tch. Not to come and defend my home from tresspassers? Seriously, you think I am a fool?" Aelle spat with disdain.  
  
A long gash trailed across her left cheek, blood trickling down her chin. But as the hunter dealt this damage, his arm suffered the same.  
  
"Elf Child, do not make me strike you." he spoke ominously, eyes narrowing.  
  
"You already did."  
  
In an instant, Aelle had already drawn her bow and strung an arrow. Before Eadric could move another muscle, a poisoned arrow pierced through his shoulder. He pulled it out with a sound groan of pain and moved to parry the girl's short sword. He blocked every blow she threw at him but as every block was successful, he could feel his energy being drained and his body weakening. With a last burst of defensive strength, he parried the short sword, sending it flying into the air and into the ground.  
  
Aelle, panicked, tried to spring back from where Eadric stood. But as she moved, Eadric's short sword drove itself deep into her thigh. Blood gushed from her wound. Her breathing had become labored and her heart pumped faster though painfully.  
  
This is it.  
  
Eadric rose his dagger in an effort to finally end the battle. But as he was a hair away from burying his short sword into the girl's head, a huge white burst of energy slammed against his chest, sending him flying a dozen paces awya.  
  
Sarabande ran to Aelle's side and withdrew the dagger from her thigh. As he removed it, Aelle screemed in pain. Bits of flesh hung onto the weapon along with her blood. Chanting softly, the priest healed the wound quietly.  
  
"Aelle, do you really plan on killing him? The poison in his system... will it last?" he spoke worriedly, eyeing the unmoving body of the hunter from afar.  
  
"The poison I gave is not fatal. It will only weaken him..."  
  
"Do you plan to kill him?" the question came again.  
  
She paused. All this came to be because she decided to fight for her principles. But it had gone as afar as she was going to kill her bestfriend. One who is also loved by others. This war, for her, was the most meaningless she has ever participated in. The most childish. And probably one with the most casualties.  
  
A sharp pain stabbed against her chest, making her grunt softly. Sound seemed muffled to her ears. She could faintly hear Sarabande calling to her. She could feel herself shaking in utter weakness as she rose to her feet and took a few steps forward.  
  
She could see Eadric struggle to his knees, looking at her almost defiantly. Strangely enough, tears came to her eyes, her chest throbbing in pain.  
  
"I never wanted any of this Eadric. I want it all to end."  
  
"Then let us... Elf Child..." he staggered, blood tasting in his mouth.  
  
Aelle sobbed softly as she gripped the short sword's hilt tightly. As she was a few steps away from Eadric, she raised the short sword into the air, pointing downwards. She knew what she was to do.  
  
For every step she took, her heart seemed to refuse. Pain shot through her chest every time. Air escaped her lips and she could feel her heart fighting against her.  
  
You must not kill him!  
  
Eadric looked at his Elf Child with tear-filled eyes. They were both dying. Both were too weak to fight. The only thing they could do now was fade. He watched the girl approach him slowly but steadily with short sword raised over her head.  
  
A step away from the hunter, Aelle felt her chest heave. She gasped for air but could not get any. Her knees buckled and she fell onto Eadric. She felt weak and sleepy. She felt herself succumb to the urge to rest and closed her eyes.  
  
Eadric sobbed softly as he saw his dearest friend at rest in his arms. But what comforted him most was the smile that formed on her lips.  
  
End


End file.
